Of Parties, Holidays And Ex Best Friends
by pearls-and-crystal-blues
Summary: Various missing moments from hp6: how Ron has to deal with an unexpected couple? And what about his own girlfriend? And is really life all about teenage love or it has and harsher moments for our redhead to endure? *read also inside*
1. Body & Soul On Stake

**Author's Note:** Hi everyone! Yeah, another story of mine, focuses on missing moments from 'Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince'. While I was watching the movie, I thought of some scenes and I thought to write them down, so... here they are! Well, these moments mostly have to do with incidents from Slughorn's party and after that; moreover, if you want me to write some more of them, you can tell me so by reviewing this story...

Anyway, I'll just let you read now... Enjoy! :)

_~Of Parties, Ruined Holidays And A Certain, Bushy-haired Someone~ _

I was sitting in the warm comfort of the common room, even though inside I was too restless to enjoy it. The softness of the armchair was cozy and welcoming as always, giving some rest to my pained back; the legs had the problem at the moment…

Lavender shifted on my lap, coming even closer to me, leaving no space for air between us- or in my lungs, for the matter- and her lips were stuck on mine like she had cast some sort of gluing spell that never wears off. I kissed back with the ridiculous enthusiasm of the previous weeks totally gone, only feeling slightly bored. I exhaled noisily through my nose while she put her tongue between my closed lips, making our today's-snogging-feast even sloppier than before. I tried to close my eyes tighter, so my mind automatically would go elsewhere, away from her suffocating and tight embraces and from her sticky-from-lip-gloss lips; I wanted to meet someone else, at least with my immense imagination. My mind tried poorly to feel somebody else's mouth on top of my own, sweet, soft, warm lips that would sent me either to heaven or to my own death- both seemed appealing at the moment, though, just because I yearn her lips on mine. I craved release and she was the only one capable to do so…

During our meaningless snogging, my ears were well capable to hear sounds from all over the room. Of course, because it was the last night before the start of the holidays, the noise could be considered even as unbearable, but not to me, actually- I had greater things to endure at the moment, as, for example, the sighing girl on my lap. I wanted to sigh as well, but not actually due to feelings of bliss… But my thoughts of mere self-pity were abruptly gone, as I heard a so soft creaking noise stemming from somewhere behind me, from the staircase. Steps were barely audible and I couldn't quite understand why I was able to hear them now, but they seemed way too important for my existence. While my lips were working unwillingly with my girlfriend's, my ears were suddenly desperate to catch another gentle sound, but for a moment none came. For a second, my heart was ready to drown in more decadence, but then again, another, a bit harsher sound reached my ears:

"Hermione, babe, you're gorgeous!"

My eyes opened immediately and looked straight, the shock still so very tangible inside me. I realized that my pupils were moving swiftly and restlessly around, trying to find the figure who said the words, but mostly the one _who received them_. Of course the search didn't take long, as both of the people I wanted to see where there, in front of my restive eyes. My breath then caught, but I wasn't so sure what the reason was…

Hermione Granger was right there, only some steps away, and for some minutes my eyes were unable of looking away… how could they? Of course, the one who had spoken was utterly right… _she was gorgeous… or even more than just gorgeous… Stunning… Flawless… Dreamful… _

I sighed in my girlfriend's lips, yet I couldn't care less about the mere fact.

She was wearing an ivory dress that reached her knees. The sight of her creamy legs was amazing and I just desired to put my hand on her ankle and softly caress all the silken skin of her leg. Then, I looked higher and I wanted to swallow hard at the sight of her cleavage- the dress had a rather deep, yet not hideous, low cut that showed some of her also creamy…

I felt my jeans getting a bit tighter and I took my mouth away from her wet one, in a poor attempt to take a breath. Of course, Lavender thought that it was her time to start kissing my jaw and neck, but I just didn't give much thought to her ministrations; all my mind could think about was _her_, the little angel that was standing some meters away from me, talking to someone else. Then, quite unwillingly though, I took my eyes away from her for a moment, just to see who she was talking to… and then I felt my heart burning.

Cormac McLaggen was there, too, talking too her with a disgusting, sly smile on his too arrogant face, his arm loosely around her petite waist like he was usual to it, and then he pulled her closely to his side, giving her a kiss on her cheek. My heart started to bleed as I saw Hermione smiling gently up to him and I seriously thinking of screaming at the top of my lungs, but then I felt the wet tongue of my girlfriend licking under my jaw-line, so I stayed exactly where I was, even though I didn't give a damn about her. My eyes were glued on my former best friend for eternity, my mind rather numb from the millions of feelings that were filling me right now; I would surely burst any moment now, yet I just didn't…

Suddenly, I saw her glancing at me and I felt weird… Her eyes were shining with something I couldn't identify and her perfect face was emotionless, but I didn't dare to think about it too much- the thought of our broken friendship made me shiver, even though it was partially my fault. So, instead of that, I decided to get lost in her beautiful face: the slight make-up that made her glowing more than ever, the soft curls that looked like silk and made her look like the princess of fairies, and of course, the always-so-astonishing eyes, those pools of chocolate that made me insane and desperate for her… Oh, how much I wanted her… but I didn't have her. And I ever could…

The thoughts, along with the heartbreaking image of her in the arms of another man, of any other man besides me, were all that my tired soul needed. I felt like falling endlessly as I looked at her while making her departure, going to a party I wouldn't ever go, to a party I wasn't welcome any more… She had made her point clearer than ever, and I did just nothing but stare at the facts with wide eyes, my spirit lost somewhere unknown.

I swiftly felt some light vibrations on my neck and I probably came back to reality after what seemed to be hours- at least to me. Lavender was giggling stupidly and bit my earlobe a little. I exhaled heavily and defensively, letting my muscles to relax after me unconsciously stiffen them and my eyes close. Behind my closed eyelids, the image of Hermione was apparent and my breath was caught once again and my body was on fire… how could she do this to me just because she was dressed up a bit more… woman-like, when we were not even in speaking terms? My pulse got then brisker, the image never going away, in comparison with the real person, and my breathing got so much heavier that I couldn't stand it anymore… I grabbed my girlfriend's face in both of my hands and I kissed her with everything I had, emitting all the soft groans and sighs I yearned to give to another person.

I never thought once of Lavender Brown while I was snogging her senseless- my mind, soul and heart was full of Hermione Granger…

…

I stare with little interest at my reflection on the mirror of the bathroom; the face there seems tired and the depths of the eyes show the sadness my soul deep-down is holding. I sigh and the motion makes my pupils to rest on the reflection's lips, which are all dry and chapped because of Miss Brown's snogging feasts. A frown appears easily on my face but frankly, I feel rather glad that I am back home and away from her, even for some days- I have to think of so many things…

My mind doesn't seem to forget the night when Slughorn's party took place- I actually can't forget my bushy-haired ex-best friend, to be precise, but honestly, precision means nothing at the moment. My inner eyes are still staring at her beauty and my lungs are still somewhat unable to function properly, even with her imaginary sight… I thought once if my existence had reached the borders of obsession as regards Hermione Granger- and when actually that happened-, but even I myself wasn't very certain of the answer. Every single night, this very same girl will chase my mind during my dreams, making me feel so restless even through my rest, with those doe eyes and with that unspecified expression in them that makes me shudder even when I am wide awake. During day, my thoughts will be wrapped around her and I just try to hide it from everybody- I think I do a very efficient work, as all at the Burrow think of me as very cheerful as I always am during Christmas holidays, but well, let's face the facts: I am far more _cheerless _at the moment.

I, out of the blue, hear some weird noises from outside… like harsh winds are abruptly surrounding our house. Without realizing why, coldness rushes through my spine, the hair at the nape of my neck stands and I feel very uneasy for some odd reason. My almost-all-the-time-sleeping intuition is now wide awake and somewhat alarmed but I can't understand the reason why… The Burrow is safe, is home, why could I feel so uncomfortable and… well, rather afraid right now?

Another sound reaches my ears a moment later… It isn't understandable, as it's stemming from downstairs, many floors below my frozen legs. My eyebrows furrow unconsciously as my heart's beating increased for some reason; what does my body know that I can poorly comprehend?

"Mum?" I say then rather loudly and I surprised realize that my voice is a bit shaky and broken- why so? This new situation is starting to annoy me more than scare me, as I can still hear the echoes of my own word filling the room and corridor. No answer.

I'm about to go out of the bathroom and see what was going on, why no one is responding to me, but a different kind of reply made its appearance and answered to my weird instincts…

Glass shutters and dreadful sounds of destroying make my eardrums throb. My breathing swiftly becomes too quick and I look around with my widen eyes; nothing seems wrong up here, but something's entirely wrong downstairs… I can't let myself think of whatever thought was ready to pass through my numb brain and my legs remain rooted on the spot, even though my heart is screaming to me to run away.

I hear yells from outside… Someone is calling for Harry and Ginny and my heart was ready to burst from the anxiousness. On the inside I want to run and see what is happening, if Harry or Ginny, or anyone else for the matter, is alright, but my body seems like it is under some freezing spell. I feel dizzy and my knees start to shake violently- I didn't understand when I fell on the cold floor. I'm counting the seconds in my head, hoping that the dull process will bring me back to bodily consciousness, but I don't even manage to reach twenty when I hear it again: the shuttering… but this time, it is so much closer… almost next to me…

I hear an evil, high-pitched laugh that makes me feel nauseous and then glass is all over, reaching my face and skin harshly, cutting me inevitably. I cover my eyes until I am sure sharp objects aren't in the air and then I quickly stand up, my body in hyperactivity now, incapable not to react to unpromising signs. I exit the room quickly and look up and down the corridor fearfully, the emotion rushing through my veins with much force. I would be a liar if I told that I'm not afraid for myself, but the prospect of someone else being in danger is much worse… My eyes are still trying to catch a sight of anyone, but nothing comes; it's another sense of mine that brings me some sort of answer…

I smell the air and my heart stops as I identify heavy smoke along with the pure oxygen of the nature. The loud, unbearable sounds then catches my attention and I turn around, instantly running towards the staircase… what I see is heart-stopping, as well…

Flaming tongues are licking all the walls- the wood is so easily vanquished by the powerful element. Heavy, black smoke is all over and immediately in my lungs, making my throat sore and me coughing heavily, trying to take an ever more poisonous breath… The questions are slipping away from my mind's reach and my arms go around my face and head; I have to find a way to escape from my own home, even though it is a true hell now…

I start to run between the flames as my heart is running too, kicking my chest painfully. My fits of coughing are heavier, making breathing process a true torture while my eyes are too dry and stung from the venomous smoke- I just hope everyone else is alright.

I hear more shuttering and then screams and I moan painfully without realizing; my family's pain is my pain. I try to run faster, just to ensure that all are ok, that we made it, but I myself am still through something I don't know if I can make it. Fire is surrounding me more now and my pulse is shaking my entire body, as smoke even reaches the inside of my skull, making me feel so dizzy… I'm afraid of losing consciousness, because I'll never be able to see the end of it… I just want to see them all alright and if it's my fate to lose my life tonight… so be it.

I try to climb down the stairs while untamed fire tries to embrace me eternally- I run quicker, so I would avoid this dreadful kind of gentleness. The steps under my shoes are creaking more than ever, the heat unbearable even for them, but I try to push any sentiment aside; I don't want to break down at the moment, so my pace becomes even quicker if that's even feasible at the time.

Another yell caught my attention and my head shoots up instinctively, my eyes attempting to observe another alive creature in the corridor, but the only thing they can make out through all this smoke is the orange and red beasts that are devouring our home, and at the same time our whole existences…

I have to run.

I hear another, louder creak and it takes only a second to realize that this creak is only under my feet. I fall down, my face meeting the corner of a lower step and a brief moment later, hot, fluid substance starts to wash the skin of my face. I try to forget the pain now, even though it's even intolerable, but the only thing that seems crucial now is my tangled legs, as my ankles are trapped between the two steps above me. I try to push them away, but my feet are stuck there, almost powerless to even shift. My heart begins its wilder pace in my weak bones while my hands enclose my calves, seeking for freedom. The task seems unobtainable as I sense the fire approaching me quickly, on its way leaving ashes that once were a precious part of our tangible love. The heat is reaching my pale skin and although the disastrous element haven't made contact with me yet, I feel like I'm on stake, like I'm burning forever, because it's not only the body that suffers at the moment… My throat aches more and I belatedly realize that I screamed. With the desperate movement from my part, I finally feel my ankles getting free from the wood, but as a result of my force, my entire body starts to slide downwards, falling on hard wood and shuttered glass, passing through flames that seem to hunt me. My muscles are aching horribly and I must have some gashes, but I don't care. Through my immense dizziness I try to stand up and escape, even though my lungs are protesting and my heart is clenching agonizingly.

"_Ron!_"

I finally hear it- my name. I don't really know if I should be relieved or worried, but I just keep on my fast pace, yearning to find the end of this painful maze. I must be on the second floor now, where inflamed wood is falling from its right place, so it can make my departure more difficult than it's already been. The voice reaches then once again my ears and I scream back, so they will know that I am still alive, at least. My coughing is now more unbearable than ever and I try to take inside me all the hot smoke with gasps, yet this makes my chest feel boiling hot and hurt. My bruised ankles and legs cannot stand anymore and all the bleeding from my sores makes me feel weaker- I just want to give in now and be welcomed to this torture till my body expires… I cannot keep going anymore…

The last few steps I take are shuffled and taken with so much difficulty, so I fall once again, meeting the hard, hot wood below me once again. The moans of pain aren't even able to make their way out from my mouth, so I just shut my eyes firmly, the smoke way too stinging for my orbs to endure. The dreadful sounds of the fire demolishing our home and at the same time our souls, are making me more nauseous; I want to throw up violently and then die- I can't stand this nightmare any more, the suffering is killing me more than I comprehend…

It is only some brief moments later when I feel strong, warm arms wrapping around my broken, laying body; mere relief engulfs my restive heart and I feel my head coming closer to a chest, giving me a poor chance to calm the violent coughing fits and the gasping. The someone carries me fully in his arms as he's running out of the house, taking both of us out of the tangible torture.

"Is… is ever-everyone o-ok?" I choke out desperately, my aching never stops me from worrying about my family- I'm only praying for the best…

"Ssh, Ron, everyone's alright…" I hear the voice and I realize that the one I'm in his arms is my dad; I'm so grateful.

After some awful, so long minutes, my nostrils are hit with so much clearer air, which make me very dizzy for some reason. I'm still coughing harshly and in my throat I feel the taste of blood, but I don't care; I open my eyes weakly as I see many figures getting bigger and bigger: mum, Remus, Fred, George, Ginny, Tonks, Harry… oh, Merlin, they were all ok…

I feel some gasp and some touching me reassuringly as my feet hit the ground and the protective arm of my dad encircles my shoulders. I look with hesitation before us, to the sight we all are looking at and yet we want not to ever have faced it: our home had surrendered to the inevitable destruction while our hearts surrender to enormous sorrow. My dad's hand stiffens on my forearm and my heart clenches unbearably… We have nothing now, except from broken each other…

My sight becomes blurry and a tear manages to escape and mixed with my blood and sweat. My body and soul can't stand all this pain and suffering any longer, the end is too much too have a handle on it. So, I didn't care if I'll show weakness, if everyone else is here, is Fred and George will use this against me someday- both kinds of ache were too much to cope with…

So, I let myself fall into miserable blackness; I faint.

* * *

_-Well, what do you think of it? I know that the last one may be a little AU, but I still hope you all like it..._

_-And, well, I just want so much some really precious REVIEWS!!! I want so much to know what you think of it, as well as if you want me to continue with this... _

_-So, thanks for reading this little fic... Until the next time, my pals... :) xxx_


	2. Eeriness Of Place & Quite Eerie Myself

**Author's Note: **Hi everyone again! Well, I'm very happy about this and the quite response the story has, so I thought about continuing it! So, here's another mising moment from hp6, which I hope you all like!

So, I'll let you read now... Enjoy! :)

_~Eeriness Of The Place And Quite Eerie Myself~_

I'm gazing out of the slightly dirty window for what seems to be slow-passing hours- time has probably abandoned the place long time ago. I exhale the air from my weak lungs noisily but my pupils remain glued on some spot outside the room, yet giving so little thought to the dull scenery… Almost everything seems dull after _that_ night…

Grimauld Place can be easily considered as a spooky place and just to make things clear: I think the assumption is downright accurate. So, living in such a place, even temporarily, once again isn't a very good way for a group of restive souls to recover from such a blow; yet, we all manage to undergo with it, somehow.

Christmas' day was quite the disaster this year; I couldn't bear to face all of my family and friends after what happened. Every single person seems to be in a personal hell at the time being, and of course, I'm no exception of this, but quite the opposite: I'm the only one who also has to suffer from the bodily wounds. Yeah, while my little 'adventure' inside the house, I did a rather good job getting some really nasty injuries: at the top of the right side of my forehead, I have a pretty deep gash because of my head making contact with the corner of the step. Moreover, bruises cover most of my lanky body- with legs being the most honored- and little cuts from glass take now company to the many millions of freckles- the red colour seems to adore me…

But despite all these, two things, with zillions of offspring, seem to tease me more: my malfunctioning breathing, which has still had a hard time recovering after the tons of poisonous air I inhaled that night, and secondly, my heart, which still cannot find a calmer pace to keep on with; of course, I can't blame it about it.

Well, as said, Christmas wasn't one of my best… Nightmares will hunt me almost every night, so I have almost completely forgotten the actual meaning of rest. During daylight, I feel probably devastated, because the feeling of being actually homeless is still very raw to grasp it fully; I think of those stupid clichés about family being one's home and 'where family is, is also your home', but I think this is a load of worthless rubbish- I'm roughly sure that the git who thought of the quote must have a nice, cozy castle to live in… _so much for family, really…_

Yeah, I know that bitterness possesses the best of me, that I once again speak before thinking, but who can really blame me now? Life and fates found it once more funny to hit us mercilessly, like we deserve to pay for the entire world's sins. I surely cannot speak for myself, but I could never think of one person of my family who could deserve even a tiny fraction of what we all have to deal with every now and then: constant, bloody poverty and humiliation because of our beliefs, our situation or even our _physical appearances, for Circe's sake! _

I sigh again, because all this weight seems to sit arrogantly on my chest; I frankly want this to go away, because I think I've totally lost the sense of being a hormonal teenager like I'm supposed to. Life appears to be crueler to us just because we are wizards… bloody justice and all…!

I feel the headache approaching and I want to struggle someone so all this pain and frustration would go away- you know, even though I'm slightly more mature than last year, I still can't handle all these things; glee and innocence look as if they have dumped me and I sit here, trying to tame all the things I shouldn't face. Now I'm probably able to merely reckon how Harry feels with all his dark past chasing him… poor Harry…

The shots of pain above my left eye are eventually making their appearance and I know for sure that I, once again, forgot to take the potion I should have. I cough painfully as I stand up clumsily and make my departure from the rather cold, quiet room, making my way with my dragging feet upstairs, to the room Harry and I share. I try to be a bit faster, just because the pain starts to become quite insufferable, but my feet and legs are protesting too and I swear between my gritted teeth. I feel like an old man who can't even take a step without moaning… Dim-witted werewolf and barmy bitch for making us like this…

I finally reach our bedroom and I exhale with some relief- at least the bathroom is in the same floor, so I don't have to climb another stupid staircase. I open the door and I see Harry being inside, sitting on his bed and reading something with some interest. Despite the pain, I cluck my tongue and I'm so very ready to tease him for reading once again from this wrecked potion book.

"What're you doing here, mate?" I say light-heartedly, feeling a bit better when I'm with my best-friend. I see his head shooting up abruptly and his eyes are quite wide at the moment; he seems like he didn't realize my appearance or that he isn't quite comfortable with my appearance for some reason. I just chuckle to myself, because after the dreadful incident, I can get really depressed and barmy myself. I step closer, looking curiously at him and I realize that in his hands isn't the prince's book, but some scraps of parchment; I eye him more curiously now.

"Oh, hi Ron" I hear him saying to me, his tone a bit unsteady and underlining the formerly said uneasiness I was suspicious about existing. I unconsciously feel my eyebrow shooting up and I step even closer, my eyes traveling from his nervous face to his somewhat trembling hands and back on. "I didn't expect you here".

I chuckle at his, a bit ridiculous, words. "This is my room, too, mate and I need to take my potion before laying and tossing on the floor like a fish out of water" I tease him and laugh lightly with my own little joke- who says that a weary existence cannot crack a tiny joke every now and then? "So, what are you reading there? It doesn't look like your new, little buddy, half-blood prince, does it now?" I ask half-curiously, half-jokingly, most probably because I cannot understand from where this odd behaviour of his comes. I observe his face, seeing his eyes widen more behind his round glasses; as for his full hands, they instantly go behind his back, not letting my eyes to examine the piece of parchment more.

"Nothing! It's really nothing" he says a bit too quickly, which seems rather suspicious, if you want my humble opinion. I take another tiny step closer to his bed, my eyes never leaving his face as my eyebrows come closer to each other, showing him clearly my doubt. "Really, Ron, it's nothing important" Harry says and I recognize some plead in his tone. I was really about to shrug it off, but my curiosity and some other, weird instincts of mine take the best of me, so I can't drop this now. My mind is so interested at the time being and I can hear it over my screaming heart, which tells me that I should prefer ignorance at the moment.

"Your face doesn't tell—" I say rather cheekily but my words are abruptly stopped and are now lost in midair, as my eyes are resting now at some place on the mattress of Harry's bed, where an open envelope rests innocently. I unconsciously take a step closer as my eyes widen and recognition hits me more hard that I would ever want to admit…

_Her neat handwriting…_

I stop abruptly doing anything, my eyes never leaving the envelope from their sight. Then, realization hits me even harder.

"She" I swallow hard because I never understood that a lump was on my already sore throat, "…She wrote you, didn't she?" I ask him totally dumbfounded, my eyes almost out of their weak sockets; my heart was _so right…_

I see Harry gulping hard and he seems very nervous, but his feelings of edginess cannot possibly reach my levels of sadness and hurt. He seems defeated as he whispers a soft and a bit apologetic 'yes'; well, he surely cannot hear my heart's sorrowful cries.

"Why so apologetic all of a sudden, Harry?" I say with my husky voice, which actually seems to be in the verge of cracking, but I try to hold it back; I cannot let myself get more humiliated. "You surely did nothing wrong"

Harry looks like he's in pain as he frowns a bit, but he certainly cannot understand the pain _I _feel; no one can, for the matter.

"Listen, Ron…" Harry starts in a sort of defensive tone, but I'm not able to listen. My heart is burning again from the acid and my eyes are stung from the liquid that threatens to make its appearance- I won't let my friend see me like this.

"It's ok, mate; she's your friend and she sent you a letter- what's wrong with that?" I cut him off with my slightly upset tone; I want to yell but I just hold it back. I try to inhale deeply, just to prevent the shaking from coming, the tears from drowning my eyes, but how much can I endure this? I believe I'm not one for mild feelings.

"I have to go…" I finally tell him, the bloody piece of paper sends me over the edge and even though I obligate my eyes to look away, they just don't follow my orders- I'm so pathetic at times.

I swiftly turn around and make my way towards the half-open door, the potion totally forgotten; headache seems like a piece of cake to cope with right now.

"Ron, wait—" I hear Harry protesting behind me, but I don't wait. How can I possibly wait? And wait to hear what, exactly? Reassuring words that mean nothing? Comforting that is only a meager cover for the huge truth I don't want to admit? No, I don't desire pity or phantoms of false hope. I can't wait- I simply yearn to be absolutely alone and that's what I'm doing.

I reach an empty room without much thinking of what it is- useless details as these ones mean nothing to me now. I slam the door shut behind me, finding no other physical way to let out my immense pain. I feel the whole room shuddering for a second because of my motion and then stillness, exactly the opposite of what happens inside me: a torturing situation that leads to nowhere.

I approach the dirty window on the other side of the room with dragging steps- how I manage the one moment to be furious and the next one being all miserable is quite inexplicable, but I go along with it. I see outside unwillingly, gazing at the brightness of the snow and thinking of the darkness that dominates in me and I suddenly feel… vanquished….

The so loud sigh of mine breaks the grave-like silence easily, but my chest appears to be as heavy as it was, no weight to lift away from my soul. Then I abruptly think of her smile and the image in my head, instead of shooing the pain away, attracts it like a powerful magnet. _How can she do this to me?_

The poisonous liquid behind my eyes is protesting again, but this time I let it make its embarrassing appearance- it makes no difference to me now. My heart is shouting the things my lips cannot even let out, making me feel more miserable and at the same time, angry. I cannot anymore even understand myself and that's also added to the pile of things that are hurtful this period of time.

And the only thing that manages somehow to escape from my sealed, cold lips is a choked-out sob.

She really sent a letter to Harry… Yeah, I know that there's no crime in the particular action, but try to tell my heart so- its wild protests make my entire body shuddering and with shame I feel some hot tears coursing down my freckled and scarred cheeks. She really dared to send a letter to Harry…

She should have known that I would see it- I'm also his best friend, after all! How can she do this? Doesn't she know that it hurts _so bloody much_ that I cannot stand it; she's supposed to be smart and this movement seems so very stupid from her part- or vindictive, but I don't want to think of the prospect. I firmly shut my eyelids, because I don't dare to face the reality- I'm a youngster, for Merlin's sake and despite my gender, my heart is still a sensitive organ that can't deal with too many things, especially when these things have to do with Hermione Granger.

The image of hers behind my eyes is brilliant, yet painful; my existence wants her desperately but she makes it clear with any way possible that I'm nothing to her. _I'm really nothing._

More tears… More pain, if that's possible… More embarrassment… yet, so much more desperation for her…

_I'm thirsty and I want to savour her like there's no tomorrow. I'm a sinner and I yearn for my angel to take my hand and bring me back to heaven. I'm totally insane and I crave my sanity back…_

_I'm obsessed… I want her more than everything… but I know I won't have her._

_There is no tomorrow._

My eyes are now like fountains of salty, liquid bitterness and my half-open lips a source of despair; I now fully understand that if I'm not able to have her, then I worth nothing. The mere thought drives me more crazy and miserable and I fall on my knees, expecting for some sort of atonement that I know will never come to me. I'm a bloody source of desolation.

All because of my obsession for her… A catastrophic mania labeled as _'love'_…

I want to hate her, just because I love her.

"Come on, Ron, Harry! It's time for dinner!"

The sound of my mum's voice brings me back to reality- a reality I don't desire to participate in anymore. I stand up inelegantly and my hand quickly goes on my face, hurriedly wiping away the trickles of water and at the same time all the evidence of my ache; as for the proof in the depths of my eyes, it will be covered with my cast-down looks and my innocent lying. That's all I need.

I'm rather satisfied that I didn't run into Harry during my short way downstairs; the two of us alone would inevitably bring too much awkwardness up and I don't need that right now. The creaking noises from beneath my shoes make me less numb by the flowing of the seconds, until I reach the kitchen, where everyone waits for me so they can start eating. I glance at them indifferently as they stare at me with so much interest. I want to vomit because I can't stand the attention- not now, not at this dreadful state.

"Oh, Ron dear, you came" I feel my mum's voice reaching my eardrums and my heart clenches a bit as a response; this dull, almost lifeless tone of hers makes me feel awful, because the catastrophe of our house affected my parents the most. I just sit down without saying a word, and coincidentally I sit across Harry. I dare to glance at him from between my thick eyelashes and I see that he's looking at me somewhat observantly, a quite sorry expression still on his face. I look down, as I don't want to risk our poorly acquired tranquility.

I pick at my food absentmindedly as my mind is totally elsewhere. I feel mum's eyes on me and I'm quite sure of the reason: she must have seen my blood-shot eyes when I came, she must have noticed the lack of appetite from my part and she must have observed my desire to not talk to anyone. She's a mother and these weird instincts of her nature can make her understand everything about her children.

I doubt she can understand my hurt feelings.

I think back again at the one person who can so easily put me in a whirl of unruly emotions and immediately want to smile and cry at the same time. I do nothing of the two and I keep poking on my food as my mind imagines the bottom of my trunk, where a so small packet is hidden- and I'm quite sure it'll be hidden for a very long time. I inhale deeply as I stare unconsciously at the mashed-by-me piece of meat, while thinking of the gift I won't ever give to Hermione. Yeah, I know, someone would probably tell me that I'm totally crazy, spending money to take a gift for a girl that doesn't speak to me at the time being, but my heart wouldn't do otherwise; she's too important for me as to not take her a present- even though she most probably will never receive it.

It's a silver bracelet with a tiny pearl on its centre; nothing too expensive, way too simple and probably to be taken unnoticed, yet I somehow liked it when I saw it, because it was quite different, yet plain, just like her. I know that I sound probably ridiculous, but well, I also know that I'm not very good at this sort of stuff, yet I did my very best to find something good for her. Pity she'll never see it…

I didn't understand when dessert appeared in front of me, but I recognize it'll have the same fate with my uneaten meal (it was touched, though…). During this numb process, I have a very strange clue that most of the people in the room are looking at me, trying to identify my mood by my mechanical motions, but I'm too emotionless on the outside now to pass them any hint. I'm also too restless on the inside to think a moment more about this.

Suddenly, sounds from outside take everyone's attention away from me and even though my pupils are still being glued on the pudding before me, I realize that it's an owl waiting outside the window that makes the sounds; my brain's blacked out after that again, returning back to its helpless state.

"Ron, won't you go and see who sends you the parcel?"

My eyes finally focus, after hours really, on something. If I'm correct, someone called my name and I jerk my head, looking at everyone in the room like a lost man; well, that's not entirely metaphorical in my case now, isn't it?

Everyone looks back at me with quite worried expressions in their eyes; I try to ignore the signals, because more guilt in my soul will make me explode. I focus on my mum, who appeared to be the one who talked.

"It's Pig, Ron; won't you go and open the window?" she talks to me once more and all I do is staring at her quite confusingly. I belatedly understand the meaning of her words and I look behind my back, where indeed, on the other side of the slightly fogged window, my tiny owl is waiting, ticking his beak softly on the glassy surface. I stand up rather quickly and go in front of the window, opening it fast. The wintry gust comes instantly my way and engulfs my body in a matter of milliseconds- my soul is already surrounded by coolness, unsurprisingly- and Pig enters the kitchen, letting me close the window hurriedly. Then, I rather expectantly look up to the bird, which finds it once again essential to show off and fly over everyone's head before finally landing on my shoulder. I pet him a bit before finally taking the small packet from his leg and after another stroke on the minute head, I feel his almost non-existent weight away from my body; it is then when my eyes finally drop on the object in my hands but a moment later, I am still emotionless and still.

"Well?" I hear Fred's voice breaking the unreasonably heavy silence of the room- the attention seems to be again on me and I ensure the presumption as I look up to them all; everyone looks at me with interest.

"It's from Lavender" I just say to them and I hear my own voice being quite hoarse and nasal. I gaze at the whole of them with a slightly defeated look, not exactly knowing how to feel about the situation. As response, I see some nodding, some still looking at me with interest, some frowning at the mention of the name- I don't blame them, because sometimes I want to do so myself. "I… I think I'll go upstairs; excuse me" I finally say almost under my heavy breath and without waiting for any sort of reply, I make my departure, feeling a little relieved for being out of the room; isolation sometimes has the tendency to cure faster.

I go to my and Harry's room, closing the door behind me after reaching it. I let the parcel falling on my bed, not really impatient to open it and letting all her girly-ness spread out. Taking my time, I take all the potions I should have by now and after changing into my pajamas, I get under the warmth of the blanket, my eyes now resting on the neglected packet. I sigh, knowing that I should just open it and end with it, so I take it in my hands, hesitating for a moment before opening it. At first, I find a letter of hers, on it many _'thank_'s, '_I love you'_s, _'kisses' _and _'I miss you'_s that make me feel quite nauseous, but I keep going. She also said that she _adored _my gift and that she was never going to get rid of it and other similar rubbish I want to forget about. After that, I take a glance into the wrapped packet, where her gift for me was supposed to be, but I take my eyes away from it with lightning speed, looking at the wall opposite me with wide eyes full of disgust and terror. I just hope someone cast some memory spell on me, because I don't want to remember _this_. I throw it under my bed without a second thought and I make the letter a ball in my fist before trying once to successfully throw it in the bin on the other side of the room; then, my brain falls in its deliberating state.

For Lavender's gift, I went to a store and picked a perfume up randomly, not even getting in the process of sniffing at it- it had a pinkish colour and I thought that it would do the trick. Of course, some remnants of mannerism still make me feel quite guilty about it, but let's be honest with myself: I don't want to be her boyfriend. Frankly, I never did, it was just all about hormones, spontaneity, stupidity and sourness that were taking the best of me after that fateful Quidditch match against Slytherin. It was always another girl that I wanted, and still want as a matter of fact, to be my girlfriend.

I swiftly hear the door creaking and I hurriedly wipe away the single tear that forgot to be shed during my earlier outburst- stupid proof of weakness...

The door closes and I eventually look up to see Harry in the room. My best friend looks at me with his eyes filled with mixed emotions, as I can make out: a bit of guilt, sympathy, a hint of numbness, reassurance…. I just stare back, even though I feel quite feeble from under his look. Finally, it is Harry who breaks the silent connection.

"I didn't know that you're turning in" he says gently, his tone casual so- as I can understand- it won't bring discomfort to any of us; I thank him silently for that.

"I forgot to take my potion earlier and the headache wore me out a bit" I just say, which is only half-a-lie; I'm terribly worn out, but the headache is only a minute factor. I see Harry glancing at me before nodding once and then starting to change in his pajamas. I lie completely on the bed and bring the covers up to my chin, the warmth welcome and quite calming after such a depressing day.

After some minutes, I hear the old mattress of the other bed squeaking a little and the light is even less from under my closed eyelids. I whisper my shaky goodnight to my only best friend and I hear him wishing me the same, even though I know that his wish will instantly go to the same place Lavender's letter went some hour ago. I sigh inaudibly as I turn on my side, trying to seduce sleep and making it fall for me, in the long run giving me some of its valuable time.

And while attempting to find out ways to attract rest, I also think of ways I'll never use to attract my bushy-haired angel.

* * *

_-Oh... quite painful that one... Ron's full of soreness and sourness and I don't blame him... ;) Well, I just hope you all liked that._

_-And now, I really hope you know what time is... time to give to the 'tired author' some valuable REVIEWS! I'd be delighted to know your opinion and if you want me to write more missing moments for this fic._

_-Well, thanks for reading, once again! Until the next time... :) xxx_


	3. Hot Pink & Icy Grey Are Valentine's Gift

**Author's Note: **Hello everyone! I wish you all Happy Holidays and I really hope 2010 brings you all health, happiness, love and whatever else you crave for! So, here's another, little missing moment, taking place during Valentine's Day. I hope you all enjoyed the previous ones and this one not to disappoint you...

Well, I'll just let you lot read now... Enjoy! :)

_~Hot Pink And Icy Grey Are Valentine's Gift~_

"Why my dear Won-Won doesn't wear his gift?"

I really want to sigh or to throw up all the lunch I've just eaten, but I just smile down to the girl who has her arms tightly around my chest; at the moment, I can't hold it and I compare her arms to the stupid brain that attacked me at the Ministry last year… where's a brain when you need it?

At my mind's words, I instinctively glance at the one person I imagine being in my arms instead of this giggly squid, but as I feel a light squeeze on my ribs, I reply shortly after to the squid's question.

"You know, Lavender, your gift is too special, so I keep it for very special occasions…" I lie with a tone full of sweetness so I seem more convincing and the whole thing looks as if doing the trick perfectly: my girlfriend starts giggling like mad and I feel relief, or at least as regards her unstoppable questions about the awful gift of hers. Because I know very well that the rest of the day, as the already spent part of it, will be very, _very _intolerable…

_Bloody Valentine's Day…_

I exhale noisily and I pretend to look at my empty plate, while with the tail of my eye I'm urgently trying to catch a glimpse of my brown-haired love. She sits alone once again, eating a piece of her pie while reading from a book at the same time. Even though the sight is still quite painful and makes my heart whimper, I can't hold a small smile appearing on my still-a-bit-scarred face.

Oh, how much I crave her… I really love her.

I hear Lavender's high-pitched squeals as she's talking excitingly to Parvati, so I dare to look a bit more straightly towards the other side of the long table, where the one half of my soul sits. My pupils enlarge from the warm desire I feel in my blood and I unconsciously wet my suddenly dry lips, the bushy-haired fairy still takes my entire attention. I keep staring and staring as my heart swells and dwindles at the same time, enchantment and throbbing battling brutally in my lanky body, each trying desperately to vanquish the other, yet nothing wins and nothing loses. I'm in the middle of so many, opposite feelings, unable to do a thing, so I just gaze at the source of my breath, yet of my death as well. I feel like I'm in the verge of solid insanity.

A shivering sound brings me back to unwanted reality, and I look up expectantly. The ceiling shows me the sky, which has a dark grey tint now. My ears try to concentrate on sounds despite the chattering of the students, and as my eyes still examining the dull skies, I hear another thunder. _A storm is on its way._

My eyes slowly go lower and without realizing how, I see this set of chocolate brown eyes lowering as well, at the same time meeting my sapphire ones.

Time stops abruptly.

Everything else seems so out of focus; everyone's a blurry shadow.

My heart stops beating.

My breath's caught.

My pulse is wild.

I'm going even more insane, if that's possible.

_She has her eyes on me; God finally blesses me…_

It's like we don't want to let this vital bond get lost- at least _I_ don't. Despite the some distance between us, I look deeply in her eyes, trying to forget everything except from her and the love that's blossoming inside me. I feel exceptionally warm and I want to let a genuine smile surface on my pale face, but I just stare at her as she looks back at me with her brilliant eyes. I try to study her lovely face, to identify some emotion of hers, but she's better than me as regards hiding feelings. Her expression is so unreadable that I can even consider it as cold, but I don't even dare to think of the prospect- my heart needs the hope to keep beating in my ribs. I look and look and look for what I want it to be an eternity, an eternity with just the two of us, but no; she knows exactly the way to make things clear…

She looks away, instantly making me want to scream at the top of my malfunctioning lungs, but my heart only seems to be able to do so. The crucial tie is taken away from me and I feel very lost, even if that seems outlandish. The acid I wanted to keep away from my soul is now back, covering and setting into torturous fire my inner sores like it's nothing… I want to shout, to kill someone, just because I cannot murder the pain that kills me.

Another thunder… _Storm is on its way…_

I take my eyes away from her form as well, trying to comfort my bruised, wounded ego. I look down at my plate again and I take my full glass in my hand, drinking the water in there in large gulps, trying rather unsuccessfully to drown the burning feeling in my throat.

"What is it, Won-Won?" I hear the stupid voice of my girlfriend and I'm about to struggle her with my bare hands; for some unknown reason, the anger beats the overweight pain in my chest. I look down at her with my face hot and my eyes almost out of the sockets and she seems quite taken aback from the sight- I don't care.

"You don't seem alright…" she says then, her voice quite concerned and gentle, a tone I haven't ever found in her voice. "Do you feel ill?" she continues and the back of her hand touches tenderly my forehead. I shake my head a bit.

"I'm ok" I only say in response, rather glad that my voice isn't harsh or a mirror of my hurt feelings. I suddenly want to break down, just to feel meagerly lighter after the humiliating outburst, but I decide against it, because a place full of nosy students isn't the right place to let hard sentiments free. I exhale all the air out of my lungs, attempting to push some crushing weight out of my torso. I chance a look at her face and I smile a little, because I don't want her to get suspicious or something. "I'm sorry your plans are ruined for today" I say softly, glancing meaningfully at the ceiling above our heads; she pouts her lower lip a bit, but smiles too.

"Well, I just wanted to be the two of us, but I guess we'll have to spend the day inside. Of course, we can have this picnic some other day" she says immediately, looking not at all sad for the change of her plans for the day. I nod and smile a little, even though I don't feel more pleased with the outcome- the particular prospect is no more appealing to me.

I sense someone standing up and making their departure from the Great Hall. I just don't look up because I don't yearn for another clenching of my heart, for another wave of pain that'll make my existence unwilling to stay alive.

I don't look up to even glance at Hermione Granger.

…

I slowly making my way towards the Prefects' Bathroom, the idea of taking a hot bath is rather alluring and I hope it'll help me get slightly calmer and sleep easier- if I manage to fall asleep, for the matter. I say the password under my breath, having no more strength to speak loud, and as I hear to the soft creaking sound, I take a step, my head still bended, eyes cast on the floor when I hear it…

The sound of flowing water followed by a so soft gasp makes me look up curiously. Yes, the sight in front of my eyes is very worth of a good, very loud gasp, but I just stay still, unable to do a single thing.

She's here.

I look at her with so wide eyes and a soul filled with a zillion of emotions. She looks back at me with quite wide eyes as well, yet the rest of her face is expressionless, making me feel much more restless and nervous that I already do. The painting slowly closes behind me and as I'm standing exactly under the doorframe, I'm pushed gently forward, approaching just a couple of steps, even though they are some meters and some oceans between us. I feel quite mournful as I know that I'll never reach her untouched soul, but I'm going to show this to her.

We look into each other's eyes for the second time today, but the atmosphere is so much heavier now, because nothing and no one breaks the solid silence; this time, no one is here to interrupt our flawed moment and there's also no way for us to escape.

We are here to face the ashes of our once existent friendship and I'm not grateful for that.

The fragile bond between us lasts longer this time, like it's a match for dominance from her part; from my part, it's just a meager relief and at the same time, a poor attempt not to break down- I cannot stand this constant encounter between my tangled sentiments any more.

Hermione keeps staring at me but I feel as if the warm chocolate of her irises is solidified from the some coolness of her look and I feel more powerless with the moments flowing like the water. I hear a shuddering thunder from outside and I see with the tail of my eye the flash of light emitting from the window, lightening her face and making it look like stone. I shiver again, but not from the sounds nature is producing.

She breaks the poor connection between us just like she did during lunch- a little knife victoriously stabs my already bleeding heart but I don't even flinch; I'm so used to pain now. I see her taking her bag from the floor and quickly approaching me, even though her destination is the door behind me. Despite that, I feel my heart start beating wildly as the signals of my eyes make me know that she's coming closer and closer… I'm hypnotized and I keep gazing at her, because the pain doesn't always overpower my undying love for her.

She's behind me now but not still on the other side of the painting. I act on impulse, as my spirit is anxious to feel her a bit more…

"Goodnight…" I finally whisper, my back still facing her and my breaths start to come out with a bit more difficulty. I sense her turning around to face me and I turn my own body clumsily, immediately looking at her face. She looks back at me with quite hard eyes, which suddenly start to soften considerably and then begin to widen. I'm about to wonder why's she like that, but her beautiful mouth opens.

"Oh my… Your face…"

Her tone holds some weird emotion in it… like slight worry along with a trace of fright. I steadily look down at her, my entire existence still very numb and too tired to attempt to hold a curious or confused facial expression.

"What about it?" I just say quietly, my voice so soft and tiny and makes want to pity myself, but I just keep gazing at her face. She looks at my face rather scarred but I just stay where I am, only some steps away from her.

"It's… It's full of scars…" she whispers slightly from under her breath and I now realize her behaviour; all these scars that seem not to yearn for leaving me alone, another terrible evidence of the night that still haunts me like I'm a murderer. "And your forehead… How did you get it?" she continues rather horrified as her index finger points weakly up to my scar, the stupid cause of my awful migraines.

"Well, you know, as a friend of Harry's, I thought about getting a scar on the forehead too" I say with some sarcasm slipping out from my lips. I don't know from which part of me this slight irony steams, but I feel weird of being so… cynical in a way, even if it's so pathetic. Her eyes widen a bit more and she seems quite upset- her words show me that I'm right.

"This is not funny at all!" she snaps a bit and then… silence.

I count the seconds with little interest as I try not to get drunk from her beauty. I get more and more distressed with the flowing of the time and all I want to do is to touch her as her appearance here, with me, is too much to comprehend it yet, even after minutes in this bathroom. Feeling the stillness pulling me down agonizingly towards soil, I decide that I have to break this growing silence that engulfs us.

"I'm quite sure you know the answer already" I say with my low voice still in use, answering her previous question. She looks up to me somewhat curiously, probably trying to find in her brain some sort of clue to this unsolved mystery. I firmly stare at her eyes, liking to lose myself in the rich colour that seems warmer again; that's only until I hear her melodic voice once again.

"What are you—" she starts to tell me with a slightly baffled tone, but I see everything in her eyes: I see some sort of new-born realization, the hint of mere uneasiness in the dark depths while she avoids my own eyes; I can understand that she's lying to me.

"I know about your communication with Harry, Hermione!" I cut her off with some irritation in the end of my so weak, low, quite desperate voice. Here it is eventually; I say out loud the one thing that has been stabbing my soul and blackening my days since that day at Grimauld Place. Hearing my words, Hermione seems quite shocked, but I don't feel guilty for causing her that- if it's time for these sort of things, then Hermione should be underground, unable to even forgive herself for the pain _I _feel. Maybe it's time for more guilt to build another wall between us, but I have enough of this as it is.

"I'm not as fool as you all think I am" I continue lowly, feeling my heart clenching as I see at her face, her still-a-bit-stony look meeting my weak one; a contact that heads to nowhere. I take a deep breath that barely reaches my still-a-little smoky lungs before opening my mouth again. "So, I'm quite sure Harry told you about the fire".

She doesn't say a thing for a moment, just standing there, looking at the other side of the room at the moment. I don't let my twinge to get the best of me and I reassure my tiny heart that everything will be alright after this breakable moment, that we'll be able to let everything out, even though I cannot reassure even myself about the fact.

"I'm sorry" I suddenly listen to her almost inaudible voice and I look at her with slightly bigger eyes, feeling quite surprised. But after a brief moment, surprise is gone and its place takes mere perplexity, because I'm not that sure if she's sorry for what've she done to me during holidays or for the terrible incident at the Burrow. I try to weigh out the two possibilities in my head.

Even though my soul yearns for the first option, my mind unwillingly believes that the second must be the answer.

"Well, you weren't the one who caused my homelessness" I only manage to say, with so tangible bitterness in my voice, but I'm not able to hold it more; how can they want me to be collected when my tiny, shaky world collapses before my eyes and I stay here, immobilized and full of pain, expected to be normal.

I'm not normal anymore. Hope has abandoned me and I haven't the strength to seek out for it.

"I thought you had to go somewhere- I'm sorry I wasted some of your time when you most probably had to do something more important" I say then, since my existence wants her away from me now. I can see her no more; it's a venomous knife that ploughs into my chest cruelly, pulling my blood out of my veins, taking my life away from me.

I want to be in total solitude, because no one can cause me more ache then; no one except from myself.

She looks at me with an unidentified expression in her face, with a nameless emotion in her eyes. I take my eyes away from hers, breaking the non-existent bond because it's more poisonous than emptiness at the time being. I hear an almost soundless 'goodnight, Ron' coming from her way, but I don't look up, I just wait for her to leave, so I can drown in my sorrow and self-pity. The gentle shutting of the painting brings an unkind crack to my heart and I finally choke out my whimper.

I want to hate her, but God, I can't…

"I love you…" I barely whisper but only stone and marble are able to hear my heartfelt confession. _Another crack, deeper this time._

I always thought she cared… I always believed that after all, after every single bad moment, we always would be friends, would be inseparable…

I thought wrong.

A so loud thunder breaks the heavy silence that surrounds me inevitably. I turn my head weakly, looking up and out from the window at the black skies, at the thick, unkind clouds. The storm is here, making everything and everyone scarred, yet cleansed.

It cannot compare to the heavy, acidic pour in my soul.

…

I'm on my bed, feeling cold, body and soul. My wide, drained eyes are glued on the curtain above me, but I can't realize it; anything makes no sense to me right now.

The bed suddenly feels so immense and endless under my broken body, and I feel like a speck of dust on it. It's like a vast ocean and I'm just a trivial droplet.

I feel so unimportant.

I think of the cause of all this, of my source of sorrow and joy, of _her_. Being probably an awful masochist, I try to reply our moment in the bathroom, I badly try to make her voice very real in my head, as tangible as possible, and through all this pain and anguish, I feel it: warmth. Mere tints of warmth in my stomach.

I close my eyes slowly and I know what is gonna follow; the poor, unused sensations of arousal are taking the best of me, making me forget everything. I feel my body lighter through its hardness; I feel it very warm through its numb coldness and I'm suddenly so turned on…

I want her badly, like a beast wants its mouth-watering prey.

I desire her.

"_Hermione…"_

I feel quite better as I imagine her so hot breaths caressing my icy face… Relief. I sigh and I feel the blood circulating in my body eagerly, in extreme anxiety for more. I sigh again as my breath accelerates a bit, and my back arches a little, trying frantically to find her body, to press with it until we're inescapably _one._

_Oh, how much I crave to be one with her… _but no.

I never find a body.

My light, drunk heart instantly falls in mud and venom and I feel more alone than ever. Sorrow is suddenly so very mild.

My hot skin, in a matter of milliseconds gets freezing cold and I'm shaking violently; arousal is a very far-away past.

I curl my body miserably, becoming an alive ball that most probably finds no taste in its life; no one yearns to savour mire or bitter wine. Tears don't ask for my permission and just start travelling down my twitched face and deep into my soul. I cry and seal my lips off tightly, not craving to hear my own chokes and sobs, even though I know I have to get used to this… I recognize that I'll become an oversensitive whiny, but this is the only medicine, the only drug to make me temporarily numb to this situation…

And I fall asleep without realizing how or when, albeit the shut-down is nowhere near rest…

* * *

_-Well, what do you think? Ron's probably in an endless maze of his tangled sentiments right now, but why shouldn't he? Things between him, Hermione and Lavender aren't the easiest ones, I guess... _

_-And I believe it's time now for your amazing REVIEWS to make their appearance! I really want to know your opinion about the story..._

_-Well, I think a couple of missing moments will be updated, so I'll try to update as soon as possible... Until then, my pals... xxx :)_


	4. Love Potion Versus Lethal Poison

**Author's Note: **After 7 long months of no updating, it's finally here! Sorry for such a long wait, but program got quite screwed due to many responsibilties and some lack of imagination. Even though I more or less had in mind what to write in the chapter, I just couldn't find the strength to write it down... Anyway, I really hope you'll forgive me someday(!) and that the chapter'll make it up for you all...

And I guess it'll be easy enough to understand which one this is... Some asked for it and I really couldn't help it! I'm aware of how many times this particular missing moment has been written by canon-shippers, but well, this is my version of the events and I hope it differs as much as possibly feasible (couldn't certainly know that, 'cause I've never read much myself... whatever).

Never mind my rambling, I'll let you read now... Enjoy! :)

_~Love Potion Versus Lethal Poison~_

I feel the back of my head exceedingly numb and cool and my body heavy and stationary, like a lying, chilly statue. Yeah, that's right; I'm on a horizontal state, but I just can't remember the bloody reason why. Everything's so blurry and unfocused, like I'm seeing my short past through a fogged mirror that can't be cleaned even by my stubbornness to retain the memories back. The feeling is so unnerving and irritating at the same time and I want to scream, because I'm suddenly afraid of the solid darkness around me, but I think that I can't; I must be trapped in my own unconsciousness, for some reason.

I feel tiny and about to get killed. I want someone to get me out of this nameless, bracing torture that swallows me up.

'_Please… help me' _I hear my heart whimpering with fear and I feel so bonded with the emotion, because unfamiliarity makes me want to cry for mercy and shiver uncontrollably, but as I'm just a poor mind and soul in an emotionless body, I do none. I do my own countdown, because I feel like some dreadful end is coming, and as I have nothing that really keeps me to stay alive, I just stay restless and scared, stiffen under the wary eye of my death that's approaching me… I just can't do anything but desperately hoping that _she_'ll remember me, somehow during good, happier times…

And then it's when I hear it…

"_And for the record, I've always found him interesting!" _

Oh, my… _her voice_... Is this really heaven or she's somewhere near? I would surely faint if I wasn't already lifeless. The perfect voice of hers is still echoing in my ears, making my bruised heart beating once again with eagerness and a true purpose: hearing her once more pronouncing beautiful, harmless words… _about me? _I'm not very sure, as she didn't mention a name, but who would she speak about if she was near me, as she seems to be?

_Does she really find me… interesting?_

Oh, I'm surely on heaven…

Then, as this whirl of gleeful, light and totally unexpected emotions strikes me like a thunder, I swiftly think of something else: I have to tell her, to speak, to make my presence known, to say all the things I want to tell her desperately- she truly has to know…

'_I was never meant to do a thing, Hermione!' _I try urgently to shout, but I sense like nothing comes out of my sealed-off mouth. I try again, this time hoping to get some voice out of my lips, but I'm not sure- through nothingness how can I be sure?

'_I really didn't want to be with her, Hermione! Never! Please, Hermione, believe me! Oh, Hermione…_' I yell urgently, feeling my blood running in my veins and arteries with extreme anticipation for more. I try desperately to catch some other sound, but I hear none, so I try again, needing to say the words now, not just yearning.

'_Oh, Hermione, can't you just see it?' _I ask her with some wonder and despair in my inner voice, as I'm not entirely sure how my outer one is, _'It's always been about you, only you! Oh, Hermione, I would just live hearing your voice and saying to you how much I like you and adore you… I would spend the rest of my life just saying your name and never getting bored! Hermione... my dearest, adorable Hermione… my Hermione… Hermione… Hermione…'_

I must be totally lost in my own words, as I feel so much lighter and warmer, actually so much that one of my hands is actually on comfortable and craved fire. I suddenly hear a distracting, high-pitched cry for only a moment, but I just don't give a second thought about it, 'cause I feel something silkily soft brushing my dried-out knuckles, making instantly my heart more alive and motivated as a sudden, ever so hesitant wondering enters my minds shyly.

'_Hermione… is that you?' _I ask her warily, trying to find out the answer of my coy question.

"_Shut up" _I surprised hear her soothing-coloured voice and I would most probably blush fiercely if I was conscious. Am I really such a hateful person to her? Then, why she's here with me?

I cannot surely understand a single thing but that not due to my so-called stupidity… Of course not! Just try to understand what's going on around you with concealed eyes, a half-conscious spirit and a weak body and with having lost some episodes of the whole thing…

Stupid situation that brought me here.

Even though I'm somewhat annoyed, I can so very clearly feel that balmy sense covering my hand, so I immediately get comfortable at it; if it's really Hermione, shouldn't I savour the very few, precious and most probably unrepeated moments of the flawed present?

Really, where's Luck to give it a hug?

Once again, I believe I'm surrounded by smooth silence, both inside and out. I try to identify some motion or sound or anything, just to pitifully reassure myself that I'm not in the fields of the vast 'dreamland valley', but for some minutes my poor attempts are met with proud failure. I wait and wait and wait for something significant to happen stubbornly, but nothing appears, so I'm so very ready to let my soul be crushed by vast feelings of vanquish and helplessness, but then again, something else suddenly pulls me away from all this mud.

"Oh, Ron…" I hear a sigh interrupting the silence's ramblings and my heart yelps ecstatically, as my ears instantly identify my sweet Hermione's lingering voice. I would most probably drool if I was awake by her tone, but as I'm not, I can just daydream and jump up and down in the ground of my mind.

If people were able to measure bliss, I would surely have crossed the highest rates by now, after so many months of misery.

"How stupid of you, really, eating something that it's not yours! Why are you always being controlled by either your stomach or your temper?" my thoughts were eventually interrupted by her words, which, mind you, made me fall into deep deliberation and confusion. Firstly, I cannot really remember what the heck I had eaten and when that happened, maybe also due to the fact that I feel a quite uncomfortable tightness in my stomach that makes me feel unwell. After that, does Hermione _really_ think of me like that? For your information, beautiful, adorable, perfectly sweet, young lady, _I _have a stubborn, heated heart and a sometimes-quite-lazy-but-still-very-well-functioning brain to take control of me!

Duh! So much for having faith you all in me.

"You don't know how much I was worried about you when I heard of the accident…" I finally hear her almost inaudible whisper after long moments of silence and self-doubting. "I still am, but God, for a moment… I thought… I thought that I'll never be able to see you again and that is my worst nightmare, Ron…" Her tone seems calm, but I can somehow sense the fear still clinging on her words and I feel bad, because I cannot hear her like this, especially after so much time without hearing her voice. I want so badly to comfort her, with any way possible, really…

_Try, you stubborn Weasley- TRY!_

The effort fortunately doesn't take that long- or at least I believe so in my timeless, unidentified position; I feel my limp fingers twisting almost barely, but still… As an unconsidered afterthought, her reaction is a nearly soundless gasp and an immediate squeeze on my alive hand. I feel quite giddy, to be frank, but I believe that I deserve some of it… don't I? Whatever…

"R-Ron?" I'm able to hear the shy hesitance colouring her tone cutely and I can sense some motion of my facial muscles- my lips are numbly attempting to twist upwards, because my slowly-growing gladness cannot be suppressed only in inward limitations with every second passing; I have to let everything out, to feel essentially free and out of needless borders.

And I need this now.

Despite the great tingling feeling all over me, I cannot help it and I attempt to remove the eyelids from their position- I crave to savour every kind of light even with despair in my soul. After some moments of trying, I could doubtlessly make out the brightness of some fading sunbeams, as well a blurry something with a brown else around it…

…_oops_…

Surely, the vision is still so infuriatingly blurry, but I can be quite sure that this fuzzy figure before my not-even-half-opened eyes is Hermione; I feel slightly proud as my previous assumptions are luckily true. The said girl, even though seems to have her eyes casted on me, still doesn't appear to make out my open eyes- I have to somehow catch her attention, uncaring of the possible outcomes right now.

I shift my fingers a bit from under her balmy hand… and her eyes are surely meeting my fogged ones… _shit, I can't breathe!_

"R-Ron?" I eventually hear her repeating almost unsurely, like she's dubious about my consciousness. At first, my only response is another finger-shifting, but then I oblige my mouth slightly open.

"Mi-nee…" I only manage to croak with my hoarse voice and painful throat, but her quite noisy intake of air make it sure to me that the message was given- success!

"Oh, Ronald," I hear her sigh answering me and a second later, I feel the undoubted sensation of a warm, small palm pressing on my cheek reassuringly, making me feel various things. At first, the glee was inevitable, because I never stop seeking for a touch from her; but after this wave of delight, abrupt sentiments of dread are overshadowing my lighter ones. I feel like her presence is like that muggle thingy, drug: it makes you feel amazing, heavenly perfect, but when it wears off, when it's away from you, you crave for it, you cry for it, you'd kill and commit the sins of the world to grasp it back again, even for a quick, desperate moment. Even though her presence, her touches, her voice are all so important and wonderful to me, still I don't know what I'm going to do when she'll be gone again, leaving me wretchedly alone. Despite the happiness of the present, I cannot help it and foresee a black future that doesn't contain her- and that's simply horrific and intolerable.

"No… no…" I start mumbling unconsciously, not even sure that this croaky echo is my own voice; I feel my head very heavy, like it never experienced this previous lightness, and my eyes get abruptly blurrier. The lungs then start their own shitty rebellion and they're now pushing the air out of my probably-healing system, making me dizzier and sadder, "No, Mi-" I cannot even finish the absentminded rambling, as harsh gasping interrupts me, and from the sudden coolness of the throat and pain of my ribs, I reckon it's mine.

"Ron?" I hear a more anxious tone of hers, but it can only cause me pain now; just go away and let me be… I can't stand being played by you, dearest, so just let me be… let me be…

"Ron, please! Are you alright?" she keeps on, her hand grasping my trembling palm tightly, her other one touching my cheek more firmly, making me facing her with unwillingly half-open eyes; the gasps become worse and worse, as does my sight.

"_No…"_

"Oh, Ron, please, just calm down, calm down!" she almost shouts and the exclamation is followed by a saddening sob that makes my heart tighten achingly. However, her advice at the moment can't be followed; I just feel awful once again, I can sense the pangs of my misery scratching my heart with hunger. I let out a husky sob as well, and wetness reaches my temples.

Oh, just please, leave me alone if you're here only in thoughts of torturing me… I can't bear it anymore…

"_No…" _

"Please, oh please Ron… I'm here for you, please calm down…"

Her cries are now heartbreaking and I don't know how to feel about it. Her sobs and words make me wonder just if… But no, the past is vast, and it's clear, it says way too many things about us… _us_…

I don't know what to believe… only what I _want _to believe, yet I'm not quite certain what the distance between these two perspectives is.

I take another lungful of air harshly inside me. _"Mione…"_ is all I can breathe out between my pitiful pants.

"I'm here, Ron, yes," she suddenly whispers with a much more composed voice even though I can slightly see the flushness of her skin and the wetness in her chocolate eyes- despite my own pain, I feel immensely guilty for being the probable cause of her ache.

Why it is always me that causes her this amount of hurt? And why it's always her providing me such a quantity of suffering?

Is it probably our feelings? But what are they? Even though once I would swear upon them, now I'm just dizzy from the conflict of theirs.

Why, when it came to us, everything has to be so bloody difficult, tangled and confusing? Is it too much to ask to understand her?

"It's alright Ron, I'm here for you… just for you," I listened to her whisper and swiftly my heart's obeying to her pleas, adopting a calmer pace. My blood though still feels hot inside me and I feel desperate and quite bewildered, gasping for some air and for some relief.

"I'm here, Ron" she chants softly, her voice another drug for me; it feels like this time during forth year, when fake Mad-eye Moody tried his Imperius curses on me- I can surely do anything this voice tells me: I can murder, I can steal, I can betray, I can commit bloody suicide just because of that feathery voice. "I'm here and I won't ever leave you…"

_Oh, dearest Merlin…_

"Mione…" I breathe hoarsely, needing to sense her utter attention on me; suddenly, I once again feel the frantic love for her prevailing inside me. Her fingertips travel across my skin reassuringly, making me feel special and wanted after eons of self-pity, and it's dreamful, it's breathtaking…

"I'm here…" she repeats lovingly and my heart flutters as response. Then, I sense warm breaths caressing my uncovered cheek- so sweet breaths that make me feel drunk… is this surely a reality? "Always here…"

"Hermione" I gasp softly, breathing unevenly just because of my need for her. My mouth remains half-open and my lips quite dry, still gulping the air that comes from her. "I… I-"

I never finish what I wanted to say- even though I'm not even sure what I wanted to. But it doesn't matter anymore, I don't matter…

Her breaths are coming straight on my lips… in my mouth… I can taste them with my tongue, and it's sweeter than everything I've ever savoured. I can't help and wonder more intensely than usual… what it'd be the taste… the taste of her own lips… the taste of her own tongue…

My gasps become heavier.

"Ssh" she lets out kindly, but it doesn't fully reach my mind- it certainly is focused on other, more crucial things… like the feeling of her lips against mine… of her silky voice calling out my name with adoration…

Am I asking too much?

I'm not certain how I managed it, but while deliberation, my arm raised and now my hand is cupping her jaw-line, the skin there soft and warm, like I've imagined it could be. I can feel a slight tremble of her muscles, but then they relax and I keep on exploring her skin numbly. My eyes, still barely open and foggy, struggle to observe something of hers, anything, but to almost no avail- all I can make out is a very faint outline of her features.

Without thinking, I arch my neck a bit, so my head is higher, almost not touching the pillow behind, so my face is closer to hers.

"_Mione…"_

Our breaths are blended now, both hot. My lips are quivering with slight anticipation and yearning, as my bottom one accidently strokes the tiny hollow between her mouth and chin. I hear her gasp lightly and I quickly capture the exhalation of hers inside me, needing as much of her as feasible. My tongue, at the particular thought, stirs with desire, and hesitantly passes from between my parted lips, in search of her skin.

_If I ever thought before that I was blissful or insane, I surely wasn't feeling something like this… _

My tongue, totally acting with its own mind, is tracing ever so slowly the full, soft flesh of her lips, driving me totally mad. My stomach feels balmy and does flips, and my lungs, even though with no as much oxygen inside, they're not complaining anymore. My entire system is enslaved by this moment of utter ecstasy.

Another gasp, one that's almost synchronized with mine.

"I don't want to lose you, Ron…" I hear a breathed, unconscious request. _I don't want as well, my beautiful charmer…_

I lean even closer, if that's possible, and I feel her leaning as well, our lips brushing against each other with feathery tenderness I didn't know I could possess. My eyes close instinctively and let only my mouth to work, to show her that I'm sorry, that I crave her and respect her like no other. Her bottom lip is then entrapped between my own ones, and I do what I've dreamed to do for years: I kiss it and suck it slowly and gently, like it would provide me immortality.

Oh my God, my heart's delightful and I'm surely intoxicated… While these acts of fondness and sincerity from my part, I sense her breaths showering my skin, heating it up, making it alive once again…

I'm blessed.

Her bottom lip easily slips away from my drunken praising and I numbly let my head fall on top of the pillow, unable to remain like this while I have also to endure the force of such delight! The thrill of such a moment runs inside my veins like alcohol- strong, yet sweet, and absolutely addictive…

_Oh, Hermione, I love you_…

The echo of this so solid declaration in my head ceases a bit as her lips begin to trace my upper one slowly. The tension I feel inside because of such reaction from her part makes my breaths once again to get uneven and travel straight inside her mouth. I reopen my eyelids just a fraction, so I can make out the bushiness of her locks and the paleness of her complexion, yet I don't mind; even these now can make me gleeful and serene.

Her lips then praise their way the bridge between my nose and mouth, a spot so close to my thirsty flesh… The motion sets me on lovable fire and I unconsciously sigh, feeling happy and important between her arms, near her presence. It's magical, and it has nothing to do with the swishes and the flicks of wands…

This is vital.

With the same way I claimed her lower lip before, she claims my upper one now, making another sigh fly away from me. The touches are silken and breathtaking, the warmth of hers comforting and lingering, just like everything else of hers. Her tongue licks softly this half part of my lip, stimulating my senses to the top, making me feel aroused like never before, feeling desired for the very first time. At this point, I willingly surrender to her ways, I'm hers, totally and utterly hers.

_I'm yours… _

The eternity passes without realizing, without my care. She keeps kissing my lip with gentleness and my tongue, unable to nest inside my mouth, just caresses back with obvious compassion. For a split second, both meet accidently and mate for a short moment of bliss that brings me a so soft moan. Her dragged exhalation touches my face sensually and she gives to my mouth another feather-kiss before finally pulling slightly away from my warm face, giving me unwanted space to breathe. I fast let my tongue explore my lips in search of some more taste of hers, of something to lull and soothe my roaring, still-quite-unsatisfied hunger for her. I hear a so soft giggle and I sigh contentedly, feeling whole and peaceful after what seems to be inescapable infinities. My pupils try some to catch a clearer glimpse of hers, a radiant image to be inscribed to my memory, but all I can still view is a foggy outline. Her hand, still on my cheek, caresses the freckly skin and happily I lean my face closer to this contact, ready to savour it fully. My hand, still under hers, shifts once again, eager to intertwine its long, limp fingers with her cool, perfect ones.

I want to be bonded with her like this forever; my heart seems to agree completely with this decision.

"Hermione… I l—I lo…"

And my eyes drift close, my exhaustion driving me to unconsciousness.

…

"You say you don't remember anything from that night?"

Her light voice makes me turn around to see her face quite close to mine. My heart's beating powerfully from the delight of having Hermione near me once again, this time talking to me, sitting close to me, being friendly towards me…

It seems so bizarre, yet I love every moment of it wholeheartedly.

"Anything at all?" she asks further and I can faintly recognize a tint of hopefulness edging in her voice. Her chocolate brown eyes, under the morning light, shine prettily and I'm then able to make out a hint of hesitation staining them. Why she cares so much about it? However, I try my hardest to answer her question as best as possible.

My eyebrows furrow instantly from thinking, as I try to find out something significant from that night. I look at the other side of the room absentmindedly, my mind far away… I can recall the foggy outline of a slim figure… A warm sensation on my hand's skin… Sweet words, sweeter breaths…

"There is something…" I mumble out with my faraway behaviour still intact, though I can sense two sets of eyes glued faithfully on me. Then, the sensation of warmth wetness on my lips, of gentle contact, of adoring feather-kisses is flashing in my head like lightning and I feel my stomach doing flips and getting warmer and comfortably tighter…

_I'm here for you, just for you… I don't want to lose you, Ron… _

"But it can't be," I continue quickly and laugh quite awkwardly, trying to hide the still-apparent confusion in my head. "I was completely boggled, wasn't I?" I look at her with a smile, even though I'm silently begging her to prove me wrong, to tell me that all these millions of light emotions aren't just a figment of my untamed imagination.

For a moment she glances at Harry and swiftly she looks all shy and hesitant, avoiding eye contact with me and curling the corners of the newspaper with a tiny, strained smile on her pretty face.

"Right. Boggled," she replies with a soft voice and I can't help it and stare at her while she doesn't look, thinking again of these abstract images and feelings. I keep quiet and look ahead, thinking always by my side and the echo of those fade words still swimming in my head. Even though it seems surreal to be actually accurate, I cannot believe that something so vivid is only a dream…

I look down at my plate myself and I try to hide that slowly-growing beam of mine. Everyone can say whatever they want… I'll always consider it a fact, an exact act between Hermione and me. And if time ever lets me, I'll ask this cute witch next to me if the actions of that particular night were ever a reality or the imaginings of a love-struck, dazed wizard.

* * *

_-Well, that was it!.. Ron's completely dazed during these moments of bliss, he's acting on 'drunken' impulse, as I'm imagining it. Anyway, I really hope you all like it!_

_-And now, the author will be exceptionally happy- even happier than Ron!- if you leave behind some really anticipated FEEDBACK! It always makes the author's hot, summer days up!_

_-After that, I'd like you to inform you about my plans for the story. Originally, I've planned one more chapter, which I'll eventually update. But, you see, my internet service will be 'paused' soon, and I won't have access to my page that much for more or less a year (final year at highschool, yada, yada...) So, this chapter most probably will be up, as it seems, around this time... next year (really sorry, pals)._

_However, I really hope that this story still is likable to you all... Have a nice summer, and well... see you again! :) xxx_


End file.
